


Magic Dance

by breejah



Series: 'Quick Fic/Photo Prompt' Labyrinth Challenges [23]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Crack Fic, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Strippers, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 01:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18201884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breejah/pseuds/breejah
Summary: Sarah is twenty-one and freshly graduated from college. Her friends opt to throw her a surprise party, with a starring guest as her stripper of choice. Can someone die of embarrassment? Read to find out.Rated M for (duh) - stripping, implied sexual references, implied future sex, and detailed descriptions of "le bulge."





	Magic Dance

**Author's Note:**

> It's "Freaky Friday" in a Labyfic group I'm part of and they dropped the mother load of photo prompts. Stripper!Jareth -- I mean, how can I pass this up?
> 
> Crack fic of sexual proportions, you've been warned. LOTS OF SCREAMING THIRST TRAPS INCOMING.

_Photo prompt by SierryBerry._

* * *

 

 

“So, I know you didn’t want us to do this, but…”

 _Oh no, they didn’t --_ Sarah groaned, sipping at her cosmopolitan, just as Nancy flashed her a mischievous unapologetic grin and they stepped into her friend’s living room, a makeshift stage with a single chair in the center.  It was her birthday and it also coincided with her recent graduation, and much as she made it clear she didn’t want to celebrate with anything crazy, her best friend had done what she did best – completely ignoring her request and organizing something anyways. Now, seeing the room, the stage, the suspicious looks on everyone’s faces, she was beginning to get worried of what she’d find.

“…and I know how you are, so I figured I’d take the liberty of going with it anyways, since you only turn twenty-one and graduate with a bachelor’s degree early once in your life, so…”

Groups of their dorm mates from college stood around, taking seats, a few gossiping amongst themselves, but that wasn’t what made Sarah nearly choke on her drink – it was what she saw across the room, near the chair she was designated to sit in, and _who_ was standing next to it, wearing nearly nothing at all.

 _OH HOLY SHIT..._ Her mind shrieked, even as her tongue lost all function, traveling up the svelte figure standing across the room. Tapered calves, muscled thighs that went on for days, followed by other areas that sent her mind into deep, dark fantasies she only entertained at night, covered in a small red thong, only to see traces of silver-blonde hair that made her want to die right there on the spot. She could feel her blood pressure working towards off-the-charts metrics and briefly wondered if this was how she would go into the afterlife. _I mean, I read about that woman having a stroke from an orgasm,_ her thoughts bubbled with an edge of hysteria, _is it possible to have a stroke if that’s who I think it is?_

“…and so we found him, he said he already knew you and that you’d find this funny. I mean, _hello girl!_ Why didn’t you tell me you knew this fine ass? He is _packing_ , and I don’t mean his wallet…”

 _No fucking way,_ she stared, feeling mortification creep into her face, freezing her limbs as she halted mid-step, the chattering of her friend fading into the background. _It can’t be, no fucking way, this isn’t – that isn’t him, just someone that looks like –_

When he turned, smirking faintly, confirming who it was from across the room as his mismatched gaze met hers, she almost wished she _would_ have a stroke. “Hello, precious.”

 _What--In the actual--FUCK?!_ Her pulse roared in her ears as her face heated, but sadly no ER-inducing activities happened, so she just stood there, eyes wide, unable to form words, her brain satisfying itself with just losing all ability to speak. He grinned faintly, then began to move towards her, his every step one of lethal grace.

 _Nope, definitely him._ Her eyes lowered and she finally choked that time, struggling to swallow the mouthful of alcohol in her mouth. _It’s him and he has--no pants. **Jesus fucking Christ.**_ Hearing the squeal of one of her girlfriends made her wrench her gaze back to his face as he grasped her wrist, tugging her up against him and taking her drink from her, swallowing it in one large gulp. She didn’t even know her friends could make a noise like that, glancing over as they all immediately found their seats, their hungry eyes devouring all the skin Jareth had on display. She wouldn’t think on _why_ that made her uncomfortable – the fact he was mostly naked except for a thin piece of cloth hiding his jewels– _dear god in heaven, those pants really weren’t exaggerating anything, it was all him! Why the fuck am I so excited to learn that?!_ – or that her friends looked ready and willing to rob her stripper right out from under her. She also wasn’t sure if she should stop them, or why it made her angry that she both wanted to and didn’t at the same time.

“What the actual fuck,” she hissed softly as he stared down at her, so the others wouldn’t overhear, “are you doing here? In your fucking underpants of all things?”

“It’s called a thong, precious, and I would think that part would be obvious.” He grinned and pulled her tighter, his free hand gripping her hips as he ground his own against her. She felt her face flame as she heard the whistles from her friends nearby, and suddenly, a shower of ones were raining from the sky near their heads. He laughed, tugging her to the prized chair in question, and Sarah slid her eyes closed in utter humiliation when he straddled her and began to rock his hips into hers.

“Grab his ass!”

“Stuff a one in his thong!”

“Shake it! Oh yeah, baby, just like that!”

“Sarah, girl, what’s wrong with you?! Look at that beautiful package!” Laughter, followed by copious amounts of screams. “Oh my sweet merciful Jesus – Hey mister, if she doesn’t want you, I sure as hell will take you home!”

Through all this, Sarah sat rigidly, refusing to open her eyes. She knew Jareth was enjoying this, from his husky laugh, to the way she could feel _everything,_ including those parts that were very nearly spilling out of that slip of a thong, as he called it.

“Should I take them up on their offer, precious? You don’t seem to be enjoying my gift, as it were,” she suddenly heard him taunt her, and her eyes flew open. He half-stood, half-sat, straddling her, and she watched his face as he plucked a one dollar bill, then her wrist, placing her fingers around it, then lowered it to his thong – front and center. “I can leave you be and entertain these friends of yours—if you simply wish it.”

Sarah swallowed, staring at him, seeing the challenge in his eyes. She narrowed her own, then crumpled the bill into a small wad, using her other hand to tug loose his thong, not looking down, slipping the crumbled bill into his shorts. She _refused_ to focus on the way his eyes gleamed, excitement obviously there, or the fact that she had _felt_ things she desperately wanted to explore. With a grin, she loosened her fingers, enjoying the small grunt and narrowing of his eyes as the elastic in his shorts snapped back into place.

“No, this could be fun,” she sweetly replied, her words like ice, reaching for another bill stuffed in the recesses of the chair, from when her friends earlier showered them in money. Jareth leaned forward, grabbing her wrist, holding her in place, before she could do it again. _How dare you show up here and try and humiliate me!_ Her thoughts fumed, even as his eyes lowered, staring at her mouth.

“You’re just mad because I’ve figured out your little dirty secret, precious,” He murmured lowly, lowering his head until it was mere inches from her mouth. She stilled, swallowing, feeling her pulse rise again, but for an entirely different reason. “I can see what goes on in that pretty head of yours when you sleep.”

_WAIT, **WHAT?**_

“You peeped in my fucking dreams?” She snarled, struggling to sit up, absolutely horrified that he’d witnessed some of her fantasies surrounding him. _Jesus Christ, as if it’s not bad enough he’s stripping for me in front of friends I know, now he’s admitting he’s canvassed my wet dreams? **Fuck my life.** _“That’s it, this little game of yours is over. Get _off_ me.”

“I’d rather get _you_ off, if we’re being honest,” he murmured with a small chuckle as she struggled, but he continued to wriggle against her, making her pause as her eyes went wide, no doubt making it all look like part of the show, from the way her girlfriends were screaming and hooping and hollering behind her.

“You— _what?”_ She didn’t hear that right…or did she?

“Want to get you off. Fingers, mouth, cock – I don’t care, take your pick.” He replied, keeping his tone low, suddenly leaning down and running his tongue along her jawline. Were strippers even allowed to do that? From the screams of her friends, she guessed so. It both aroused and humiliated her, especially with the evidence in her jeans of how aroused she was. As he ground down closer, she squeaked, her face flushing red. _Well, at least I’m not the only one affected._

Sneaking a look down, she nearly choked again. “Your….pants…won’t take much more of that if you keep doing…what- _uh_ -you’re doing.”

“So take them off,” He suggested, grinning, as Sarah sat there, pondering her choices in life. It took her a few minutes to realize that he must have said that last statement a little louder, because pretty soon, her friends were joining in with loud, raunchy suggestions of their own.

“ _Ohhh yeah,_ take it all off!”

“Turn around and share the love!”

“Show us your banana!”

Her eyes met Jareth’s as he stilled, listening to that last one. Her lips twitched against her will, until suddenly she was snorting with laughter just as he struggled not to show his amusement. _Banana? Seriously?_ Unable to help it, her eyes flicked lower, staring. _No, not a banana, or maybe a very large one, though…_ As if possessed, she reached up, trailing her fingers over his thighs, against the globes of his ass, then tugged him further into her lap, just as she untied the top laces of his thong.

Jareth raised an eyebrow with a half-cocked grin as she tossed it over her shoulder, shrugging a shoulder with a chuckle. “You started this idiocy, so get to dancing, Goblin King.”

“What do I get in return?” He asked, but she noticed he started to grind against her, keeping all of him within her view only, tugging her shirt up, grinding his erection against her stomach, but keeping it where her friends couldn’t witness it. _Lord, give me the strength to make it through this._ She was pretty sure he could tell how much that was turning her on, and right now, she didn’t give a shit, either.

“I’m pretty sure you know,” she struggled to say, gritting her teeth to avoid moaning, leaning forward to kiss his jaw. He turned his head, his mouth near hers, raising an eyebrow. She laughed, whispering the specifics of one of her more recent wet dreams, and was pleased by the groan that tore from his lips. Just as she was going to lean back and enjoy the ride, he kissed her, making her head swim. 

"Well? Work _hard_ , Goblin King," She grinned, making him laugh and the other girls scream, as he began to do exactly that. "If you want what's in store, you have to _earn_ it."

“Oh, I will,” he murmured, pulling back with a wink, then gave her the ride of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> In all seriousness, this is a crack fic and meant to harp on Sarah's horror at being forced to acknowledge she seriously wants to fuck the shit out of Jareth (Who wouldn't?) and in no way is intended to make fun of the sex industry, which I respect is people's choice and no one has the right to make another feel "lesser" for how they choose to make money (as long as _choice_ is involved). 
> 
> I mean, I fully admit right here and now if His Nibs showed up, I'd be DTF. Hahahah.


End file.
